


I Could Use Somebody

by collie



Series: Someone Else's Angels [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, ambulance porn, screwing in front of an unconscious girl, unintended use of hospital lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collie/pseuds/collie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles climbed into Peter's lap just as the older man's fingers found what he hoped was medical lubricant. It was all water based, right? It should be safe. He only hoped it wasn't the defibrillator gel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Use Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 3A. Takes place during the episode 3x10 'The Overlooked'.
> 
> I [asked a simple question on tumblr](http://galaxied.tumblr.com/post/57493499565) and the masses spoke, so this is dedicated to everyone who liked and/or reblogged that post lol. ♥
> 
> This is completely un-beta'd, so. You know.

Stiles was terrified, which was probably the only thing keeping him from having a panic attack right now. That and the fact that he was pretty sure Cora had possibly just died. Nothing like saving someone's life to give you a real sense of your own mortality. He could barely hear over the sound of his own heartbeat thudding in his ears, and he was beyond surprised that the twins had passed him by without a glance.

It was eerily quiet in the hospital basement, the only sounds being his and Cora's breathing. But hey, at least she was doing that. But then a sound, and another, like metal against metal, or maybe careful footsteps. He sucked in a shaky breath and tried to hold it, tried to will his heart to calm, but it wasn't working. Stiles had very little self-control, but right now his nerves were raw and on edge, and he swore his hearing would have rivaled any of the wolves.

There was the sound again; like shuffling, or maybe dragging, and Stiles couldn't help silently praying to any god that might be listening to him right now. Well, except for the Celtic ones because fuck those guys. He glanced over his shoulder, wide-eyed and hopefully ready to take on anyone or anything that opened the back of that ambulance.

 _Oh my god, oh my god, I'm going to die in an ambulance after saving a werewolf's life, how sick and ironic is that?_ he thought, his mind racing, and he didn't even realize he was reaching for the door until Scott's face appeared, and hanging off of his shoulder, Peter. The breath Stiles didn't realize he'd been holding pushed out of him like a deflating balloon, and he immediately wondered where the adrenaline was because he was pretty sure he was about to go into cardiac freaking arrest.

“Stiles!” Scott said breathlessly, a look of panicked determination in his eyes. “Open the door.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Stiles stammered, shoving the doors open with shaky hands before reaching out to help Scott haul Peter in. The eldest Hale was visibly weak, weaker than he usually was, but Stiles didn't have time to ask as he helped Peter practically crawl over his lap and into the seat beside him.

Knowing Scott couldn't see, Peter cast a wink and a feeble lopsided grin at Stiles as the boy's hand accidentally brushed over his ass, but he didn't chuckle, despite wanting to. Of course things were serious now. This was life and death.

“Where's Derek and Jennifer?” Stiles asked, glancing between Peter, who was slumped beside him, his breathing heavy, and Scott who had stayed outside, looking frantic and desperate.

“I have to go back for them,” Scott said, giving Stiles an almost apologetic look. “And my mom.”

“Okay, well two problems,” Stiles outlined, swallowing his fear down thickly as he tried not to look at Peter, to worry about his father, to freak the fuck out and puke all over Scott, because puke never helped anyone. “Kali's got the keys to this thing and I just saw the twins, like, 30 seconds ago.”

A sound drew the attention of all the conscious people in the ambulance, and Stiles heart leaped into his chest. Not even the brush of Peter's knuckles along the outside of his thigh could calm him. Not right now. Not when everything was so fucked it was nearly impossible to see a clear way out.

“Stay here,” Scott said, and Stiles' heart nearly broke at the expression on his friend's face. Scott was so fucking brave and Scott was probably going to die. They were all probably going to die, and Stiles couldn't stop shaking as he pulled the ambulance doors shut, watching his best friend and brother's retreating form running back toward the hospital door.

“Well, that was bracing,” Peter declared in a heavy groan, hands lifting to grab at the back of the collar of his shirt, trying unsuccessfully to tug it up over his head, but his arms were weak and there wasn't much room to maneuver in here. “Damnit,” he hissed, elbowing Stiles into paying attention. “A little help here?”

“Huh?” Stiles whipped around, eyes wide as if he'd just remembered Peter was there. “Oh, shit...” He grabbed at the hem of Peter's shirt and yanked it up and off, his eyes widening a bit at the damage on Peter's torso. Most of it was bruising, all superficial and in various stages of healing, but there were a few stray claw marks that were still laid open. Alpha claws.

Stiles pressed a shaky hand against Peter's chest, right over his heart, before looking up at the older man, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

“Ten points to epinephrine, huh?” Stiles breathed, feeling Peter's heart still beating like a caged bird against his hand.

“My blood pressure is off the hook,” Peter said, dropping his head back against the side of the ambulance, his eyes lingering on Stiles before sliding over to drop to Cora's face. He cocked his head slightly and lifted his brow, silencing his breathing for just a moment; just long enough he listen to her's. Long, heavy, steady breaths. Sluggish heartbeat. Slow, steady pulse. She was out.

“Stiles,” Peter said, his tone suddenly serious as he looked back at the boy, meeting wide brown eyes, full of anxiety and tension and fear. He grabbed on of Stiles' hands and pressed it against his groin, letting the boy feel just what he meant about blood pressure. His cock was like an iron bar pressing against his fly. “Take off your pants.”

Stiles blinked. Peter smirked. Stiles blinked again, and then one more time for good measure. Peter tilted his head and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Stiles opened his mouth and did his best dying fish impression, which was saying a lot since he did said impression often and well. Peter rolled his eyes and reached out, his fingers clumsy and fumbling as he worked at the boy's belt.

“Pe-” Stiles began as he stared down, watching Peter's hands unbuckle him, then unbutton and unzip him. But when he looked back up and saw the tightness of Peter's jaw and the brilliant blue of his eyes and the carefully controlled expression that read 'we might die at any minute, so stop being a pussy', Stiles threw all caution and fucking everything else to the wind. “Oh, fuck it.”

Stiles stood, hunching in the confined space as he shoved his jeans and boxers down and tugged a single foot out of the leg holes, his flannel shirt coming off next, landing in a pile on the bench next to Peter. The wolf growled his approval as he leaned back, eyes latched to Stiles' and holding the gaze, feeling the heat growing between them as he unbuckled his own jeans, releasing a nearly painful erection.

“Imagine trying to explain my hard-on to the other kids,” Peter said through clenched teeth as one hand strayed to the locked medical supply cabinet and gave the handle a firm yank, breaking the lock and opening the door. “You're only doing yourself a favor.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Stiles whispered, climbing into Peter's lap just as the older man's fingers found what he hoped was medical lubricant. It was all water based; it should be safe. He only hoped it wasn't the defibrillator gel.

Stiles was grateful for the padding on the bench as his knees sunk into it, one hand reaching up to grab at the handhold above their heads as he leaned back, his other reaching down to grab his own cock, only half-hard due to the sheer insane Penthouse Forum-ness of this entire situation. He pressed his lips together against his snaking tongue, a soft groan pushing from his throat as he began to stroke himself fast and hard, pulling at his skin and squeezing himself around the head firmly, just like he did when he really needed a jerk and didn't have a lot of time.

“You're going to have to do this again for me one of these days,” Peter murmured, his eyes locked to the boy's hand, watching Stiles working himself with an incredibly practiced and furious pace, his own hands almost casually tearing open the plastic package and squirting the lube into his palm, before wrapping a slick hand around his length and stroking himself leisurely, like they were chatting about the goddamn weather. “Only slower, more porn star-y. Hey, maybe we can film it,” he grinned cheekily.

“Jesus,” Stiles hissed, shooting Peter a glare. “You're fucking unbelievable, shut the fuck up and let's do this.”

“Bossy,” Peter drawled, with a little note of pride in his voice as he reached for one of the boy's slender hips with his dry hand. “You sure you want to do this with no prep?” he cautioned, giving Stiles a look that said if he affirmed, that would be that.

Stiles licked his lips, his grip on the hand-hold tightening. He knew this was going to hurt, but it would be a familiar pain. A pain he was well-acquainted with. A pain he was kind of craving right now, _needing_. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing as he nodded, and the flash and gleam in Peter's eyes had him throbbing in his own hand.

“Good boy,” Peter said, his tone throaty as he pressed the slick, hot head of his cock against Stiles' tight hole. “Come on, get down here.” Stiles grit his teeth and relinquished his hand-hold, his stomach twisting like he imagined it would if he was about to jump out of a plane without testing his parachute. He shifted his hips forward and hunched over Peter, releasing his grip on his own dick and moving to press his hands against the metal wall of the ambulance, letting Peter hold him up as the older man pushed with absolutely no kindness up inside of him.

A strong, hot hand immediately reached up to clamp over Stiles' mouth, cutting off and muffling the surprised wail that choked out in Stiles' throat as pain seared through him. Stiles' hands balled and fisted, pressing and banging with as much restraint as he could manage against the side of the ambulance, and he could feel himself shaking, his hips jerking against his will as he tried to pull himself up and off. Peter's arm snaked around his waist and held him, strong and firm, before pulling him down as he finally thrust in fully.

“Shhh,” Peter breathed, and though Stiles nodded, Peter kept his hand clamped around the boy's mouth. It wasn't that he didn't trust that Stiles would be able to contain himself – _okay, maybe it was quite a bit that_ – but it was more that the kid just looked really hot like this, all wide-eyed, pupils blown, and shaking on Peter's cock. Knowing Stiles couldn't babble even if he wanted to was kind of a ridiculous turn-on for Peter.

“Next time, ball-gags,” Peter said with a sharp smirk before leaning into Stiles and scooping his own hips down and up, moving as much as he could inside of that slender body with as much range of motion as he had, which wasn't much. Stiles' eyes narrowed and rolled a bit, long lashes fluttering as the head of Peter's cock nestled and nudged firmly against his prostate, sending hot chills and jolts of pleasure straight to his dick.

They rocked together for a bit, getting Stiles accustomed to being filled so fully without any sort of stretching, but withing several breathes the lanky teen finally started to move. Knees pressed into the padded seat as he rose and fell on tense, trembling thighs, whimpering groans reverberating in his throat as the friction finally melted from discomfort to pleasure, and soon enough the two were coupled together with sweat-laced skin and muffled moans.

Peter's blunt human fingers dug into Stiles' cheeks but he didn't care, this was too fucking intense. The rush, the fear of being found, the fear of _dying_ ; it was all too fucking much. Peter's mouth latched to his shoulder and Stiles felt teeth, scraping and digging into the meat of the muscle, and firming lips and tongue and Peter sucked hard, wanting to mark. Loving to mark. Wanting the faint taste of blood as he drew it just beneath the surface of Stiles' pale skin.

The arm around Stiles' waist disappeared suddenly and the boy almost faltered in his momentum for the loss of it, but the moment Peter's lube-slicked hand slid around his dick and squeezed, Stiles bucked his hips right back into rhythm, pulling a throaty rumbling growl from the wolf he was riding.

“Faster,” Peter demanded against spit-slicked skin, his tongue dragging along Stiles collarbone as his hips jerked up, thrusting into Stiles hard and fast now; no mercy. No time for that. Only the fierce, desperate need for release. For some sort of calm in all of this chaos around them. “Move faster.”

With a whimper Stiles nodded, already knowing he was going to miss the strangely comforting weight of Peter's hand over his mouth as he picked up his pace, sliding on the older man's cock with ease now. Peter's hand moved in a discordant rhythm on Stiles' cock, making the boy work for it, making him whine and sound pleads in his throat. He was close, had _been_ close since the moment Peter got his cock out, and all it took was a few of those firm, authoritative strokes of Peter's slippery hand and Stiles was tensing and pitching his hips forward, his hands falling to grasp firmly on Peter's shoulders as he came with a muffled shout against the older man's palm, and a thick stream of come that webbed Peter's fingers and dribbled onto his abdomen.

“Mm, _perfect,_ ” Peter growled against Stiles' ear, nipping hard at the lobe as he continued to pound into the boy, using his ass like he would his own hand; with abandon and no care for the state of how he left it afterward. A few heavy, gasping breathes and Stiles whimpered again, trembling around Peter's cock as he felt the wolf throb hard, hips stuttering as Peter came, filling Stiles as his breath shuddered hot against the boy's slender neck.

–

Isaac squealed to a halt in the basement pick-up, his wide eyes landing on the ambulance that he knew contained Stiles, Cora, and Peter. Not a second later the double doors on the back of the transport vehicle burst open and Cora came out, wheeled on a stretcher, before Peter quickly picked her up in his arms and dashed for the SUV.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!” came Isaac's frantic calls, the young beta dashing around the side of the SUV to help Peter with Cora, though his eyes strayed to Stiles who hesitated. Hesitated reading the admittance form on the back of the ambulance door.

 **Parent or Guardian** , it read, and Stiles finally understood the one thing he'd never wanted to understand; that his dad _was_ going to die if he didn't do something. Now.

“Stiles, let's go!” Isaac yelled, gesturing at his shocked friend as he made his way back to the driver's side, and Stiles merely glanced at Isaac, as if hearing him underwater. He looked over his shoulder, and then back at Isaac, before turning and running in the opposite direction, ignoring Isaac who shouted his name again, as he moved back toward the hospital door. Back into the lion's den.

Stiles ran away from safety and security. Away from warmth and comfort. He ran away from from freedom because he had to do _something_ , and from where he sat in the back with his niece's head in his lap, Peter smiled softly, watching the boy run _towards_ instead of _away_.

“Good for you,” Peter whispered, before running his hand over Cora's forehead and brushing her hair back.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://galaxied.tumblr.com/) . [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxied) . [policy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/collie/profile)


End file.
